Hello! Little Bean
by latinisdead
Summary: Chummy is pulled away from Peter her life is out of control, and we see inside her mind and her memories of how things unfold. She now has to recover from her c-section and getting used to a newborn. Reviews are welcome! This is now rating M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Chummy has her baby and she's in intensive care.

**Hello! Little Bean!**

_She's on Pethidine. _

_She won't take the Gas and Air. _

_We need a blood transfusion –_

_Mr. Noakes please move – _

_A man in a white coat moves quickly past him- _

There comes a time when you have to place your life in someone else's hands. And this was one of those split seconds where she felt her life spiral completely out of her control. She felt his hand slip through the finger tips as they hold on for a few more seconds, he reaches once again, and she's pulled away into a place he couldn't follow. Behind the doors marked Theatre. She's no longer safe and close to his reach. She will not forget the whispers of his touch as his fingers left hers. Moments like these are tangible where time stops and takes hold of your every breath and movements. Her blood is the river that pulsates through her body, and all she could hear now was the thrum of each pulse aching through her head. She hoped he heard her as she leaves him in the hallway – _Name him Fredrick!_

Things were happening rather quickly, she felt weightless and motionless as she was lifted from the stretcher to the table. With blurred vision she squints to focus causing her head to spin in ways it made her feel queasy to her stomach. The movement all around here is caught in slow motion, voices echoing inside her ear causing her to glance around, but it's far too late as she squeezes her eyes shut only the nausea hits.

A firm hand holds hers in place with that bally mask on. With all her strength she pushes it away for the third time. With heavy breathing she swallows hard trying to keep everything down. Tiny little beads of sweat drips into her vision the room walls move before her, creating panic in her voice , "I'm-going-to-be-sick."

_Mrs. Noakes everything will be fine –breath in normally-_

_Find her the bowl Nurse-_

_Blood pressure is down-_

_Another hemorrhage! _

_Catch a falling star…_

_….put it in your pocket_

_Never let it fade away_

_With that her eyes close_

Dim light cascades across the spacious room casting a shadow of a figure sitting across from her with his tunic as a blanket covering him. She blinks, several times to clear the grittiness of her tired and dry eyes. Moving wasn't an option she felt her arm with the IV hooked into it. The other was tucked under her it now explains the tingling feeling in her fingers; she's been lying on it for so long cutting the circulation off. What actually pulls her out of her slumber wasn't him in the corner. She felt phantom movements from within her womb; this ache of emptiness fills her heart, hope on hope her baby survived. She could feel the fullness and tenderness of her breasts, soon her milk will come in, causing her ache more for her baby. Her eyelids felt heavy with sleep and they close again.

_Mr. Noakes, would you like to hold your son?_

_How's she doing?_

_Resting and her vitals are stable_ – _do you have a name for him?_

_Fredrick that's the name we picked for him._

_A good family name Mr. Noakes_

_(Memories fade from her morphine induced dreams, sifting her feet through the sandy beaches at Ramsgate.)_

_Was it a dream? _

There was no way of knowing how long she was unconscious for but what woke her this time was the metallic taste in her mouth. Likely she had bitten down on her tongue as it felt cracked and split open. Her tongue licks her lips they were also very dry and cracked, they felt like old paper crumbling in the hot blistering sun. Her eyes slowly adjust to the dim lighting in the room; she scans the area seeing that he hasn't moved since she's arrived in intensive care. Hospital air is dry and when she works in one, she always had to carry a bit of Vaseline to coat her lips to help them maintain moisture.

_I need water!_

The thoughts form but she couldn't even whisper them, she could feel the cracks in her lips bleed from being so dry. Movement of her lips hurts a lot, but she does it again until she could make out the words. "I-need-water." She said in a raggedy breath.

The sound of her voice pulls Peter out of a dream of dancing, drinking in a bar then the white walls come flooding back into his vision; right, he was a dad, and his wife held onto life with a thread of hope. He didn't change out of his work uniform; still clad in his work shirt, pants and boots, with his tunic and tie hung neatly over the back of his chair. He focuses on his wife awake calling for water. He had cried, but he would never tell her that, not now, not ever. What he does though is reach over to touch her hand, holding it softly drawing crazy little patterns on her knuckles. This was his sign, his way to indicate that he's always there for her.

"Camilla?" He calls to her softly while he pulls a glass out and fills it with water. "Here, sip, slowly." He helps her to wet her lips with small little sips of water.

This process took them some time to get the rhythm just right with her sipping from a straw and him holding on to her without accidently causing her harmful pain. Her mouth felt wetter and the metallic taste slowly disappears. She definitely cut her tongue open as the wounds stung a bit with each sip she took. She knew there was dried blood on her lips because Peter took her magic hanky out and wets the tip with the water and carefully wipes her mouth clean. Once she was ready to speak she does.

Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper. "Sorry Peter."

_What is she sorry for?_

_She's fine – we are fine, our baby is safe._

Silence passes between them for a few seconds when it struck him. And a smile escapes his mouth.

"We have a son, Camilla."

_Then she hadn't dreamt it. She now remembers how they enter silently, very few words spoken, only the sound of paper unwraps and their gentle movements with warmth covering her from the love they made with each stitch connecting them back to Nonnatus House._

With a flat of her hand palm down she caresses the blanket in soft gentle circles. Why hadn't she seen them, or even known. They were knitting and crocheting each square sometimes while waiting for calls. Her eyes closed she smiles for the first time in two whole days.

"Where is my little bean?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**From Nurse to Mother**

"Pethidine is a bally awful drug to take." Chummy says as she leans onto her elbows in her hospital bed. It was an effort to find a comfortable sitting arrangement in her bed with her stitches as tender as they were from healing. She's had many visitors cards and gifts all stacked up around her table and the foot of her bed. Cynthia was her latest visitor, and just before she had arrived with another gift with handmade items from the house she realizes how much she truly misses being home.

Her mind wanders back before Cynthia's visit:

_With the curtains closing her off from the other mums this was as close to privacy as she will get. This nurse was short and portly looking, reminds her lot of Sister Evangelina, but kept that to herself. This nurse was all business and not there for small talk. She felt alone and uneasy, this wasn't where she ought to be. Now, for the past three days she's had strange nurses coming in checking her vitals every four hours like it or not. Being a nurse herself she felt utterly hopeless and restless. This idea of being bed ridden wasn't for her. But movement in the lower region would pull at her stitches causing searing pain and that meant for her to slow down. _

_The need to breast feed was deep inside her. Her breasts were tender, swollen full of milk and ready to nurse her son. She slips her gown down and exposes a breast, she felt awkward at first but to get ready for him was necessary. _

_The nurse came around to her right side, holding him swaddled tightly in a beautiful knitted blanket, she eyes Chummy's middle then back to the baby. "Warning this will painful at first; it is best to keep him in the football hold!" And she indicates how to hold him securely against her naked breast, "Nothing wrong with using the bottle a lot of mums do, no shame in it at all." _

_She had to be firm, that's one thing Peter has taught her since their marriage, to know when to say no and mean it. His voice echoes through her mind. "Be strong Camilla." _

_"No" the very instant she held him, tears flows freely, how she longed for this touch, his skin next to hers. The nurse backs off a tiny bit yet remain silent as she watches the new mother fed her baby for the first time. With a drop of milk expressed she tickles the bottom lip and does it again coxing him to open up wide enough for her breast. And he latches on perfectly for the first time. _

She gives her head a quick shake and recomposes herself focusing on the present time as Cynthia sits on the edge of the bed holding little Freddie refraining from doing the normal checks a midwife would do. This wasn't her place at the moment, until then she would simply admire the newborn with love. "Was it really that bad?"

Chummy watches her friend with Freddie swaddling him up in a crochet baby's blanket that was a gift from Dolly Smart. She hadn't read the note yet tucking it into her handbag; it would be for later when she had nothing else better to do. She over time grew a friendship with Dolly, they had long days just chatting away while Chummy attended her needs in the maternity home. She ponders this question a bit longer before she just answers her. "Made the walls move." It was the easiest and probably most polite way to answer Cynthia's question.

"Really?" Cynthia thought Bella was exaggerating a tiny bit as she really played up the nurses for Gas and Air.

Chummy eyes her friend who had place little Freddie in his bassinet as he was fast asleep for the time being. Now, for the first time she felt like that overly protective mother and reaches out to find his little hand and rubs it with the pad of her thumb, he shakes then his fingers spreads out then he settles again. She's not talked to the nurses or even Peter about her experiences, not that she couldn't it's just hard to put into words how fast it all came crashing down on her.

Cynthia's mind flashes back to her case a year ago with David and Margret Jones, where she had full onset Eclampsia. The outcome was grim, baby died at twenty-seven weeks and soon after Margret. She shivers at the old memory that fades fast as she comes back to reality; she places a warm hand on Chummy's then spoke softly. "Is it something you could tell me?"

_This is where I would usually retreat right back inside myself and hide away! _

_Where does one start? _

She claps her hands together pressing her fingertips together keeping her from shaking at the very thought that she came very close to death. She's a mother yes, grateful for it, but the experience was stolen from her. Oh how she aches in the wrong places, the act of motherhood starts with birth and yet she holds him. Cynthia being the professional she is, witnesses the tension in Chummy's body language. All the while she remains silent and waits for her friend to speak when she's ready too.

A noise pulls her back into the world where she is right now. Freddie makes a few noises and twitches like he always does. She reaches but Cynthia gets up, "You rest, I'll change his nappy."

"No" she musters an answer, "I will do it, you've got to just crack on."

With the aid of Cynthia she stood feeling the tug of each stitch pull from the inside out. It twists a knot of anxiety; can she dwell in such things after she's released from the hospital? She pulls herself steady rocking slightly on the balls of her heels, this was truly at test of what's to come. No more allowing others to do things for her, she must take each step as given and push forward. She may not love her scar, but she will love her baby.

Deep down she knew what she had said was a cover, or a lie to how she truly felt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Balancing Act**

The East Enders are used to dark and dreary days, sometimes you couldn't tell where the buildings end and where the grey clouds begin. But today out of all days the rain came down in a heavy downpour. Life in Poplar never quits and a bit off rain wouldn't push these folks into hiding. She watches people pass by them either on foot or bicycle, and kids still enjoy playing outside in the streets. Fred honks once or twice at pedestrians who clearly thought walking down the middle of the street were permissible. She should be happy, or at least attempt a smile, but with lips pierced and eyes transfixed on the outside world she never felt his arm around her waist until he moved. It wasn't the first time she's done it; probably won't be the last either he noted as she pulls his arm free from around her waist. He eyes her suspiciously as the car rumbles and rolls through the city muck and mud splashing through the streets.

She felt the car roll and rumble along the cobble streets her eyes closed and head leaning against the passenger window. It was days like these where she was glad to not be out in this terrible weather riding along the cobble stones battling the winds and rains. She could hear the swishing of the wipers keeping a rhythm counting: one, two, one, two dulling her into a light sleep.

"Is Chum alright back there?" Fred calls back to Peter.

"Alright, just asleep." Yet he senses something wasn't right with her.

"She'll find her rhythm, you'll see." Fred glances back at the young family baby Freddie fast asleep in his bassinet.

"I could use a nap myself." But Peter felt on edge and rather stressed with the whole thing.

They started to have light conversation from the weather that they were in now, (_how Peter grumbles at working in the fog tonight_) to football tickets that Fred had picked up cheaply. That Peter could easily purchase two and see England verses Sweden, at ten each. That they're not a funny scheme, they're a good deal. Peter laughs "I'm going to pass, Fred." This light chatter kept Chummy from really falling asleep, and a smile crept up on her face. She was on her way home, back to Nonnatus where she felt safe. Fred then mentions his daughter Dolly, will be leaving at the end of the week after the baptismal of Samantha his granddaughter. Peter hadn't thought of it, he wasn't very religious but his wife was, and presumed they will talk about it first. But deep down he knew his wife would want it done too.

Fred then turns onto Leyland Street, she knew those cobbles well, and that very sharp incline as Fred took it gently slowing down enough so he wouldn't bottom out. He then came to a full stop at the top in front of the bike shed. All the bikes seemed to be in waiting for them.

"Home, sweet home." Fred jumps out of the driver's door and helps Chummy too her feet while Peter grabbed her things and the bassinette with a sleeping baby.

Once they were inside there was a light lunch waiting for them, and Chummy's friends all had a welcome back party. The place was decorated blue and a banner hung in the sitting room Welcome Home Chummy and Freddie. She notices a rather large pile of presents in the corner she'll get to them eventually. All the nurses were dressed in uniform, business as usual. And no sooner as Trixie wishes to hold Freddie (_Let me tell you, no one names their kids Fred these days_) the phone rang, she was on first call and off she goes to reach the phone.

She sits down slowly with the aid of Sister Evangelina and that's when she notices a person missing. All of them were there but Sister Bernadette. She knew from the letters she received that Jane came as a temporary stay and how Sister Bernadette had TB and away for the longest time, but she should be here.

Sister Monica Joan sits next to Chummy and places her hands on hers. "Well then we need some catching up."

A Trixie pop back in and indicates to Jenny that she needs her light whispers about triplets and off both went to collect their things and head to the bicycle shed. The rain hadn't let up since they arrived back home. Chummy felt badly for her friends as they would ride in this terrible wet weather. But she sighed a bit because in a way she does miss it. She glances around the room; Freddie was in Sister Monica Joan's hands, she held him so close to her chest while she recites her poetry to him. Peter and Fred were off in a corner drinking something special out of their mugs and toasting to being fathers. Cynthia talks with Jane about where she'll go next because Jane felt her time has come to move on. The nuns were also in conversation about the upcoming fall concert. Things were moving forward as usual, but she felt left out of it all.

She slowly stood and exits the room. This didn't go unnoticed by Sister Julienne and she follows.

"It's the adjustments; you'll find your even keel." They stood in the hallway out of ear shot so they could talk quietly.

"I'm happy, just a bit tired, I wish to nap." Chummy did look rather tired.

"Then if you wish, would you like to take your son with you?" She knew it's hard for new mums to make a huge transition with a baby.

"Peter can bring him up when he's awake." Chummy shares her gentle smile.

With the aid of Sister Julienne she makes it to their room. "Have a good rest." And she helps Chummy into the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**No One Knows You Better Than Me!**

Sister Evangelina had to slog her way through the pouring rain pushing her bike because of a flat tyre all the way back to the convent from the Canada Tendaments. With a pause she takes a deep breath and ups the steep incline to the bike sheds. She notices that all of the bikes are out but Chummy's. She passes Peter on the stairs, "Good Afternoon Constable." "Good afternoon Sister." She removes her tunic in the main hallway and hung it to dry glad that she'll have a bit of peace and quiet before Compline and sets off to find a slice of Mrs. B coffee cake. As she rounds the corner heading into the kitchen she notes heavy trodden footsteps caked in mud across the floor heading through the gardens disappearing into the boiler room. There could be only one man who could make such a mess, and that's Fred.

"Fredrick Buckle." She follows the footsteps and up to the boiler room only to see him in his coveralls drenched and caked in mud. "You better explain why you've messed the hallway and kitchen floors again?"

Fred gave a perplexing glance towards the door through to the kitchen then back to the nun not really seeing the problem. "I was cleanin' the pigs' pen and collectin' the pigs' dirt for compostin' the garden. Then rains came down fast and I got out of there just in the nick of time. Then the boiler was clangin' like usual and thought to clean it out only to find you here." That's a perfectly reasonable argument he thought.

"Fredrick, I am warning you, gets that mess cleaned up before Sister Julienne comes back. And fix the boiler."

She retires to the kitchen and searches each tin until she does come across one slice of coconut cream cake. She could hear the clanging and clattering in the back room among a few choice words leaving Fred's mouth. Once he had figured out the problem with the boiler he quickly tidied his area, places his tools away and leaves the room closing the door behind him.

"Don't forget the floor, Fred." She points out with a piece of cake at the end of her fork, and then takes a bite.

"I'm gettin' too it." He quips back.

Cynthia enters the front door, wind whistling now and rain sheeting away. With a force she slams the door shut. "Oh hello Chummy!" Both women walk together in unison.

"Young Sir and I wish to offer some help, one can get bally alone up there." She held the bassinette with a sleeping Freddie.

"Chummy that's awfully good of you." Cynthia comes across the medical supply room and opens her case replenishing her equipment and supplies then closes it back up again. "How about answering the phone?"

They enter the kitchen only to see Fred moping it up while Sister Evangelina sits there eating here cake. "Oh good Sister, glad to see you, Sister Julienne needs you, she said the twins are stubborn, 9 hours now and counting. She's asks for you."

"Chummy can stay and answer the phone, she's asked to help." Cynthia cuts through the kitchen checks the teapot notes it's already steeped and pours herself and Chummy a cup.

Fred looks at Chummy, "Why so glum Chum?"

She straightens herself into the kitchen chair does it really show she's feeling a bit down? "It's just the bally bad weather we're having and poor Peter is walking the beat today." That is a very small trickle of fear she actually felt. The other fear was how she can be a mother if she's this morose every little thing sets her off. Cries at a drop of a hat.

"FREDRICK NOW!" bellows Sister Evangelina from the front of the house she's clearly ready to go but her bike tyre needs fixing.

He turns to facing them walking backwards stepping cautiously as he went, avoiding knocking anything over in the hallway. "Chum, we need you back, us the Cubs Scouts." He taps her head with the tyre pump and pivots to turn facing the front of the house and leaves with a heavily gaited step.

With the house quite again the two sit in the parlor drinking tea and just watching little Freddie sleeping away. Chummy was well known to worry and yet she could always produce a smile but right now Cynthia saw how down her friend was.

"Does your scar hurt?" she asks Chummy.

"Only a twinge here and there, if I reach too far or twist the wrong way, sends shooting pain through my spine and down my legs." She eyes her friend.

"Oh, Chummy, do see the doctor if you feel it still, that pain shouldn't feel that badly now."

"Don't tell Peter, whatever you do. He doesn't need more worry." Chummy didn't feel like talking about it anymore.

"Tell me how you feel?" Cynthia presses Chummy on. "Have you and Peter been intimate again?"

There wasn't any other way to get to the point.

"I dislike my scar, it makes me feel weak."

"Don't cry Chummy." She finds a hanky for her friend. "It's not a weakness. You could have died, you had to have it."

"I don't think he'll want me anymore."

"Peter loves you – "she didn't get to finish her sentence because Chummy stood and left the room with her baby in her arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Odds and Ends!**

_*authors notes* I would like to thank AndreaAtlyss for the ideas and suggestions. You're an amazing writer, and idealist. And at the end of this Chapter It's going M. Please feel free to comment, and give reviews. _

"…maybe it's exactly what you need to get back into the swing of things." Trixie said absent-mindedly as she flips through her latest fashion magazine.

She was on call and Chummy kept her company while she folds nappies. "They all missed you, mostly Jack though. He showed up asking when you'll return each week."

"Oh gosh, the Wolf Cubs missed me?" with a finger she pushes her glasses back up on her nose.

"Not I or Jenny, or even Cynthia could replace you." She places her magazine down ear marking her place and helps Chummy with the folding.

She ponders this for a second; the idea is intriguing to her then questions. "Has Cynthia talked to you?"

A door was heard from the hallway someone has come back. Trixie quickly jumps off the counter before the person comes into the supply room. She steps sideways into the hall to see who it was; it was only Sister Monica Joan coming back from a visit with her nephew. The nun didn't pass them on the way in, but turns up the stairs to the nun's floor where her cell is located. Trixie then goes back to help Chummy with the laundry.

"Cynthia, "She drawls, "has forgotten all about the argument. We all worry about you Chummy, like all mothers, it's our job. And you know that all too well."

Chummy does know it all too well. "You do have a bally good point, old bean."

"Then it's done, we'll go to clinic together, yes?"

Even during the coldest months of the year the clinic will always remain busy. Inside the building it always felt cold, but today's clinic was especially chilly from the dip in the temperature. Kids didn't even seem to mind as most didn't have warm over clothing or proper attire to wear during the winter months. Children were running, playing and quite often getting into trouble. Mothers smoking, and even yelling at their kids, along with the gossip that most of them thrive on it was all part of their very busy life style. Chummy agreed to join Trixie and Jenny with Tuesday clinic sessions by helping keep the stores organized and handing out fresh juice and little snacks for the kids. Trixie was right; she felt at home helping out made her feel important even if it was temporarily for just one day.

With the three of them, they were closing up clinic: folding the screens away and tables with the washing stations and even the equipment until next week when someone very peculiar walks in. Chummy was behind the counter, at the autoclave removing the tools carefully counting each one and slipping them into the sterile bags, ready for use.

"I do hope clinic is still open?" She calls from the across the room near the entrance. In walks someone who she's not seen in such a long time. Chummy nods to Trixie as she really wanted to go home. "I'll take care of this, go on then."

Peter waits outside the main doors of the Parish Hall hearing the boisterous young lads singing their Cub Scouts song and he too hums along with it. He agreed earlier in the day when Chummy asks if it was fine to rejoin the Cub Scouts and he didn't even think about his answer as he quickly said yes. He knew things had to return back to normal and if she could resume her social activities then he's all for it.

A few minute later a least a dozen lads push their way out of the hall doors past him all saying "Good evening Constable." And off they'd run towards freedom and their mothers or older siblings to walk them back home. He pats Jack on the head as he passes him cutting through the kids, he notes how big Jack has gotten. "Good start back?" he asks his wife.

She felt tired but had a bit of skip to her step as she meets him half way in the hall then surprises him with a quick kiss on the lips. Fred quickly gets out of the way and quietly leaves to allow them some privacy. This was a nice change of pace, and he wasn't going to question her changes. She hands him Freddie who clearly needs a quick change before they leave for the evening. "Let me." He walks over the changing area, as she dips behind the counter to change out of her Arkala uniform. "Yes, felt wonderful to be back." He could hear it in her voice as she spoke with a lot more happiness.

He comes up behind her with their son. "I took the liberty to grab us some pie and mash, we can reheat it when we're home and eat in our room away from everyone."

With dinner eaten, and Freddie down for the night, they work on the dishes together. He wasn't like any other male, he preferred to clean and help with the baby care. They were having idle talk about their day when she remembered her visitor earlier that day. "I saw Brenda McEntee earlier, in clinic."

He wrinkles his nose trying to jar his memory, but can't recall who she is. She continues, "And she's having another baby."

"McEntee? Still doesn't ring a bell."

"You know her husband works at the docks, gone mostly works in the river at night." It still doesn't ring a bell, but he just nods in agreement as he picks up another dish and wipes it dry and places it back into the cupboard. She wrings out her cloth like she always has hung it to dry, as the dishes are completely done. Then continues, "After four obstructed pregnancies, she had a fifth one by caesarean; she's pregnant again, and really excited for it."

She absent-mindedly runs her hands on her sides remembering everything, he closes the space between them, and from behind he holds her softly. How he's missed her warmth. He expects her to push him back after a few minutes but she intertwines her fingers with his. "Camilla," he says softly. "Can you tell me how you feel?"

They remain like statues as the silence spoke for her. She's always had trouble expressing her concerns or troubles with herself or others. "Do you love me, Peter?"

He turns her around so they're facing one another, he didn't step back or remove his hold on her hips, his arms pulls her into his body, a connection they've not had since before the birth. His voice was low, "Yes, I do." He pauses, "Camilla is that what frightens you?"

A simple nod of her head said it all for her. "I'm afraid you won't love me for my scar."

He had to show her how he felt; no words could possibly make her see it. With a soft touch on her chin then his fingers whispers through her hair he pulls her into a probing kiss. Just like the days when they were first together. He didn't want to break free, his hand moved down to her spine and held her there allowing her to decide when it was the right time to let go.

She whispers, "Take me to bed."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: time is all I Need**

Did he just hear her correctly she's asked him to take her to bed? The other officers who are more skilled in this parenting department gave him the lowdown on how to react, that for the next few weeks she'll be overly protective of their son, and so far that's the truth of it. But now, he heard her right, she's felt guilty of having a scar and it made her feel less attractive.

He realizes that he was rather silent and she eyed him suspiciously waiting for his response.

"Then let's go to bed." His voice lowers so others couldn't hear.

She knew that any moment young sir could spoil the mood, so she didn't waste another second and tugged him to the bed by his tie. He couldn't help the little laugh that escapes his throat as he felt himself being pulled towards the bed. At times he was glad she was taller, but this time she pulls him off centre and he nearly falls over her feet and stumbles to the bed, he misses it, and falls to the floor, which could wake the baby up.

Amusing as it was, she slides to the floor to join him. "I think we need to slow the pace down."

"Ya think?" he pokes fun. But on the serious side, "Come 'ere." He said and pulls her into a soft kiss.

This was better; she turns to face him and his hand cups her chin then it slowly slides down resting on her collar bone, toying with the zipper fob, wondering if he should just pull it down...just a tiny bit. She seems to respond to his fingers tickling the back of her neck, as she turns so he could pull it down all the way, in which he does. Her skin tingles from the cool air hitting it and she shivers from his lips caressing the back of her neck as he slips the top of her dress past her shoulders.

He could hear her cussing lightly under her breath, "Damn." As he pulls back he could see why. "Let down, it is natural." She shrugs. Not sure what he thought of it. Through her bra, and her top her milk leaked through. He could see how engorged her breasts are nearly popping out of the top of the bra.

Some men it would turn them off, or maybe even make them feel awkward around a bit of milk seeping through their spouse's garments, but he wasn't like any other guy, and he didn't speak at all, but pulls her garment off at the waist. She turns to face him fully and pulls her ties free for him as he pulls her breasts free from their confinement.

He's seen her dress and undress a few times since the birth of their son, but to see her undressing in front of him for pleasure made him wish to touch her even more, but something nagged at the back of his mind to ask. "May I?"

She takes his hands in hers, and then presses them against her fuller and heavier breasts. "Would it be easier if I—"she straddles his lap facing him fully now.

He wanted to know what her milk tasted like, but maybe it would be wrong he thought, but she could read his face, "It tastes sweet."

He lifts a single breast into his mouth, not really sure what to think but he notes how different it tastes than regular milk. She leans into his mouth a bit, allow him to suckle him. He's never experienced something so erotic before. She eyes him wondering what he thought of it, "It's different."

As soon as she pulls back their son makes a few noises, but settles down as quickly as it came, as he found his thumb to suck. She would have jumped to get him but Peter pulls her focus back towards him. "Right now, I'm yours."

"Are you?" she purred, she liked the idea of being wanted outside her son. His hands slid down her side, and rested on her hip. She has pulled his tie free, threw it some place then she returns her focus on his throat as she leans down to nibble on the very spot where a slight moan would escape his mouth.

Her fingers work his buttons on his shirt rather quickly, as her lips kiss along the exposed flesh. His hands work into her hair, he couldn't help but tug a bit pulling her back up to his lips. God, when was the last time they kissed like this?

She pulls on is belt unbuckling his pants. She's always enjoyed undressing him more than he did with her. Maybe it's because he was so impatient and she loved to tease him. "Camilla.." he called.

"Peter?" she questions as he helps her kick his pants off one leg at a time.

He stood them up, as she was still half dressed and he pulls her dress all the way down. He's notices the scar, it was vertically done. And she pauses her movement to cover herself up again. Not only was she embarrassed by her scar, she hates it still.

"Camilla, please." He pulls her tightly into his body, where he wanted to stay connected with her.

"Peter, it's ugly." She felt awkward around him now, this wasn't supposed to happen but here they were and he knew from the last few weeks with her crying it wouldn't be an easy transition to accept such a scar.

He needed to watch his wording around her as she was really sensitive with her body and image. "I love you no matter what." His hands were warm on her belly, he touches her softly. "We can stop here, it's all about you."

It was about her, and her control over her body. She knew that from the day they met. That felt like a lifetime ago, now here they are two years strong and she's afraid of her scar. "No, I want to continue, let's reconnect together in bed then."

This time they make it to the bed, without stumbling at all. Both fully nude together since before the baby was born and he could have easily just stayed like that forever.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Stolen Moments**

"Peter, just be gentle."

He heard her say after they were comfortably side by side in the bed. His hands found the other breast he's not paid attention too. How the milk beads up and dribbles down her chest and pools in the belly button. His tongue follows the river of milk sucking gently until he came across her scar. He felt her flinch, her hands does block him for a second, but he pulls them aside, "I won't hurt you."

"I trust you."

He encompasses her hands in his, holding them tenderly as he leaves a trail of soft kisses along the scar, pausing where it ends just above the pubic bone. "Do you want me to continue?"

A quick nod with the head her eyes watering at the thought. His fingers left hers as they softly brush against her beautiful skin, one hand still holding on to hers, as he slowly enters inside of her, one finger, he could feel how much softer and yet tighter she was. He moves in a rhythm that made her hand grip his harder. She quivers at the touch, and he responds to it.

Taking his time he deepens each stroke. Allowing her body to decide when it was time to speed up or slow down. Her muscles stretch and contract around him. He could feel her relax under his touch; she reaches out to touch him pulling him up to her level.

His finger brushes against her cheek before he could speak he felt her nip and bite his bottom lip as their lips meet again in a heated kiss.

She pivots to allow him better access and he responds to her leg feeling her guide him slowly just hovering near her. Pulling back he breathes deeply, the burning desire to be inside her was too great.

"Peter…I will…hurt."

His eyes close as he felt her strength, as she digs her nails into his flesh. He knew she may hurt as he enters her. He could feel the sting of the marks her nails made as she clung on to his back as he slides inside, he move slowly at first then he felt her loosen up as each stroke hit deeper inside of her. She could feel him shake inside her core, it would happen too soon, she knew and it being their first time after a baby, she's heard many stories how men can't handle waiting. She actually hopes it wasn't as slow pace, as lovely as that can be; she wanted him fast and hard.

He felt her tighten up as he quickens his pace. Not sure how long he'd last but he knew his wife was near the edge as she spoke in a sharp ragged breaths as she calls his name. "I'm sorry."

He falls to her chest as he lets out short little puffs to allow his heart to catch up to his breathing. He then hears her muffled voice as she spoke into his hair. "I can't breathe."

After he pulls free from her body he could see her chest rise and fall slowly coming back down to earth. His hand wanders to her breast it was full again and he could feel it. "I don't know if I will ever get used to this."

She actually laughs. "You're not the one that needs to feed the little bean."

"I didn't hurt you?" He asks as his thumb strokes her feeling her harden under a simple touch.

"A little bit."

Her hand touches him lightly feeling how cool he was. He always was cool compared to her body temperature. He pivots to face her as they were lying on their sides.

"I was afraid of that."

"Don't be." She toys with his chest hairs she knows he enjoys touching after they just made love.

"I should have slowed down." His hand wanders to the other breast just cupping her.

She laughs.

"That wouldn't have mattered."

"No, I guess not."

Her hand snakes up to his neck with a callused thumb she rubs just behind his ear, he shivers. She's always done this, as a sign that she was ready for another round. He snuggles in closer to her body the smell of her arouses him a bit. He felt her hand slither down his side, landing just above his hip and she squeezes into his side.

"Oh?" he responds verbally.

"Do you want too?"

A hand finds him, she draw up and pulls back down; with a callused thumb she draws circles around him. He shifts and moves so she had better access to him. He leans back with his hands behind his head, with his eyes closed. He felt her shift, so she could kiss his neck, little tiny ones all the way down his stomach, she pauses just at her hand, where she still stroked him and she felt him grow under her touch.

His hand reaches for her chin cupping her face, she pulls herself to lay half on him and continues to draw her hand against him he's growing now harder against her palm. She felt a hand against her thigh, as his fingers grazes around the front two could play at this game he thought.

Or perhaps not, the silence in the room was interrupted by a tiny voice that made it known to them he was there. She pulls back just enough to check to see if he was actually awake. Hopefully, he would settle down after he startled awake.

Peter laughs.

"I'm sorry." She said embarrassed.

"No! Don't be."

Peter kept his hand on her thigh, feeling a bit selfish he wanted more time with her before it was over. His hand grips a bit harder as Freddie does startles and twitches in his sleep. Maybe, his son would settle, but he knew better. She kisses him on the lips.

"Young Sir, he, needs me."

He releases her thigh so she could move. Her hand does linger a bit with a teasing touch she fondles him once more then pulls away.

Freddie was in a full cry now.

"Camilla, I do love you."

She finds her glasses, to see where to go, and pushes off the bed, her breasts were painfully full just hearing him cry made her letdown start up again.

She eyes Peter who watches her intently. "I love you too, Peter."


End file.
